


All bark and no bite

by ghostbutt



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-08-27 17:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbutt/pseuds/ghostbutt
Summary: Iruka is convinced to reassign a mission to Kakashi, without actually knowing what exactly he's ordering him to do. So it's not his fault when things go bad, right?Prepare for sickeningly sweet interior monologue, love-struck mooning and two big stupid idiots that don't know how to say they're in love. Also prepare for fun times with roommates. (In which the word "fun" is used very loosely.)





	1. Fine Dining for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: When I started this fanfiction I hadn't watched through all of Shippuden, so on one hand, yeah, totes spoiler-free, but also not 100% canon-compliant because I only had a vague Idea of Kakashi's mental state and oh my god it's so much worse than I thought. 
> 
> :))))))

There was always a certain dullness to life. A certain shadow that was never quite dark enough to be called darkness, but eyes will adjust without light and so will the mind. Kakashi never thought about what his life had been like before it got this empty, because, for him, it had always been like that. He lived from mission to mission, allowing people into his space and life but never, ever into his heart. Not that he noticed he did that. It was normal to him, healthy, even, or so he thought. Life just was empty. 

Especially now, that Naruto was gone with Jiraiya and Sakura was off with Tsunade all the time. He wanted them to grow as ninjas, that was - had been his job, after all, but sometimes he wished they could’ve grown with him. That was about as sentimental as he got. 

When he was younger, he always wondered why Asuma had taken up the habit of smoking. He thought he understood, now, but he had no need for a new habit in his life. That being said, when his friend offered him one, he didn’t decline. Though, at this point, it wasn’t his brain making decisions anymore. His body was on autopilot and between missions, sleep and Tsunade’s “pep-talks” there wasn’t any need for his head, only his body. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke?” Asuma asked. He’d offered out of habit and politeness, but he’d always thought he was the only smoker. 

“You’re right.” Kakashi pushed the cigarette back into the pack. “I don’t know what’s up with me these days. It’s like I’m not even thinking anymore.” He scratched the back of his head. 

“Hey man, I feel you. We should all take a break from work sometime. Kurenai and I could use some us time and so could you and… “ Asuma thought for a while. Nobody specific came to mind. “... Pakkun? I don’t know man, you need to find yourself a lady you can relax with. Or a dude, I don’t care as long as it makes you snap out of that trance you been in.”

Kakashi sighed. “If only we had time for that.” 

If only… but even if he had more time, would he know what to do with it? Was there anybody he actually wanted to spend it with? He couldn’t think of a single “lady” he could “relax with”. 

-

Iruka wasn’t comfortable with the constant stream of missions he had to hand out to Konoha’s ninjas, but there was a constant stream of missions coming in and they had to get done, despite the obvious lack of human resources. So he kept assigning missions, hoping that one day he’d come to work and find his desk completely empty. As if that would ever happen. And yet, despite his worries he felt his exhausted mind slipping away more and more, until he fell into a trance, his body working without his head even noticing it. 

“Iruka. Hey. Are you listening?” 

Someone was clapping their hands furiously in the corner of his eye. Iruka snapped awake at the sudden movement and turned his head in the direction of the voice. It was Kotetsu, leaning over the missions desk. When he noticed Iruka was listening he repeated: 

“I’m saying I’m not doing a mission without Izumo. It’s bad luck to separate us. Tell Tsunade she can get some other Ninja to do that solo-mission stuff but I’m not going.”

Iruka groaned. He wasn’t prepared for this discussion today. 

“I thought you didn’t like guarding the main gate?”

“I don’t, but if it means I can hang out with Izumo, I’d gladly sit on my ass for ten hours and check for rogue tumbleweeds trying to enter the village. Just get Kakashi to do that stuff. He’s more qualified for a mission like this one.”

Iruka sighed and flicked through the stack of paper in front of him. Luckily, Kakashi was free. If he told him about the job this afternoon, they would have some time to catch up, they hadn’t talked for a while now that Kakashi didn’t need any more help with Naruto… 

He was hooked. Iruka nodded. “Fine. But you owe me a favour!”

“Um...thanks.” Kotetsu hadn’t actually expected Iruka to listen to him. He never did that. Kotetsu wondered whether that had anything to do with him bringing up Kakashi, but really, he didn’t care. “I’ll be off then.”

-

It was evening and the last rays of a distant october sun were showering the neon-lit street in soft gold. But under all of that visual poetry, it was just Kakashi, trying to find some decent food for dinner before the shops would close. He’d spent the day on a small escort mission that he survived with ease, but it had left him spent and hungry. He inspected an apple. It was a little blotchy, but all the juicier for it. Still, not a whole dinner. He thought about it for a while and decided today was a fish kind of day, but he still bought some tangerines because he knew he’d be out, soon. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, it was like a switch was flicked in his brain and he snapped awake in an instant. He put it off as being startled. Man, he hadn’t seen this guy in… forever! 

“Iruka! What brings you here at this hour?” 

Kakashi looked good, maybe a little tired, but it was late in the day, after all. Iruka had left work a few minutes ago and instantly went about searching for Kakashi. After all, Tsunade couldn’t notice that he re-assigned a mission. 

“Kakashi! I was looking for you, actually. I’ve been meaning to give you this mission.” 

With that he handed the scroll over to Kakashi, who accepted it hesitantly. 

“Outside the missions room? Thats odd, Iruka.” 

Iruka sucked in air through his teeth. 

“Yeeeeeeeeah, um, I…” Iruka hadn’t actually thought about how to explain this to Kakashi. “... I forgot to call you in?”

Something told Kakashi that was a lie, but a mission was a mission. It needed to get done, so he’d do it. 

“Sure. I’ll get on it tomorrow, so you’ll be on schedule and Tsunade won’t notice a thing.”

Iruka felt relieved. At least his unwise decisions wouldn’t impede the whole system anymore. He was about to thank Kakashi and then awkwardly back out of the room and hope he’d forget about their meeting when his stomach growled. Loudly. 

“Are you hungry? I’m cooking and it really wouldn’t be a bother to add another plate… “

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“On what could you possibly impose?”

-

Though they had been acquaintances for a while, Iruka had never been to Kakashi’s apartment. Now that he saw it, he realized two things: That it was bleak and empty enough to look like nobody had lived there for ages and that it was exactly like he'd pictured it. It saddened him, in a way, to see that there was no semblance of warmth in his friend's life. He made a mental note to visit him once more and bring him… anything decorative, really. 

He was glad he wouldn't have to cook tonight, though it had been a little odd when Kakashi invited him out of the blue. Maybe he wanted company or he wanted to chat about Naruto. And yet, the entire walk home, the two had barely spoken, each one too tired to initiate a conversation, each one comfortable with this silence. It had felt familiar, relaxing, the knowledge that one's presence was cherished without any need to express it. Each of them had known the other one was tired, because they were, too. 

Now Kakashi was standing in front of the stove, handling the food in silence while Iruka sat the table. He smelled fish, a hint of red wine and over everything the scent of tangerines that wafted through the entire apartment, sweet and zesty. It was odd to have any sort of lingering presence in this sterile space, but it was the only thing that gave the room any semblance of character. A sense of sweetness under all of that cold exterior… 

They ate in silence, with Iruka looking out the window the entire time to save Kakashi the awkwardness of being seen without his mask, and cleaned the dishes in unspoken synchrony. Finally they sat at the empty table and Kakashi unrolled the mission scroll. He briefly scanned it and then turned to Iruka with a grin in his eyes. 

“Iruka, you sly dog! I didn’t know we even had those missions, still!” 

“Oh, what kind of mission?” Iruka genuinely didn’t know. All he’d gotten from Tsunade (and later Kotetsu) was that it was a simple A-rank solo-mission and that it had to be completed by an adult ninja (though he’d assumed that was just protocol). 

“What, they don’t tell you what kind of missions they’re having you hand out these days?” Kakashi said, still amused. “At least it’s a change from the usual routine…” He showed Iruka the scroll.

Oh. That kind of mission. Well, at least it explained the fit Kotetsu had been throwing. Izumo would have gotten jealous as hell if his boyfriend had gotten sent off for _that_ purpose.

“Yeah, apparently you’re having me seduce some civilian and steal a critical document without showing any obvious hostility. And just when I thought Tsunade wasn’t trying to stir the diplomatic pot…” Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Too bad my flirting skills have gotten kind of rusty, lately. Mind if I run through a couple scenarios with you?” 

Iruka tried his best not to blush. This was a professional dinner. With his work friend. And sure, that work friend was Kakashi Hatake, verbal disaster extraordinaire, but as if he would pull anything inappropriate. Although deep down, Iruka found, he probably wouldn’t even mind that. He decided to explore that particular sentiment later, though.

“Yes, sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Just sit there and pretend you’re a woman. Also that you don’t know me. Uh… “

Suddenly, his entire demeanor shifted. This wasn’t Kakashi, the awkward prodigy anymore. This was… well, it was still Kakashi, but in a way, it also wasn’t. His position seemed more open, less apathetic and his eyes had an odd spark in it that Iruka had never noticed before. It seemed off. 

“Hi, ma’am. Mind if I buy you a drink? The name is Kakashi Hatake.”

“Lovely!” Iruka squeaked in his best woman-voice. “My name is… Lady McWoman.”

Iruka heard a low chuckle escape from under Kakashi’s mask before he quickly pulled himself together again. 

“That is a lovely name, Lady McWoman… I know you must have heard it a million times, but you look ravishingly beautiful.” 

“Oh, mr. Hatake!” Iruka clutched his heart in feigned surprise. 

“Please, call me Kakashi.”

“Fine then… Kakashi” Iruka was still practicing his squeaky voice. “Well, it may surprise you but you’re the first to tell me that. “

“It can’t be, or all men you’ve been with before must have been blind!” 

Iruka scrunched his face. “You have the tendency to get kind of… cheesy.” He remarked. “Like those books you’re always reading… was it Icha Icha? I don’t think women actually go for that. It makes you seem all bark and no bite.” 

Kakashi nodded pensively. “I’ll make a note of that. So you mean it would be better if I just did…” 

He dashed up and around the table and tilted over Iruka’s chair, all within the blink of an eye. Iruka could feel the air on his skin as Kakashi leaned over behind him and removed his mask, he could feel his warm breath on his neck as he whispered, slowly, savouring every word: “How about we get out of here. I want to see even more of your beauty. I want to know all of you.” Iruka knew that if he’d move his head even a millimeter, he would see Kakashi’s face without his mask, but he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. His skin was breaking out into goosebumps as he felt Kakashi hovering inches from his own face. Kakashi chuckled again, but this time it sounded deep, dangerous. “Babe… I wanna get all up in your guts like a fucking tapeworm.”

“JESUS CHRIST, KAKASHI!” 

Iruka swirled around, a look of horror and disgust on his face. Kakashi’s mask was back on, he was leaning on the wall, shaking with laughter. 

“For the love of everything sacred, please tell me you’re not planning to ever say that to a woman!” 

“The right person would be into it.”

“Then I’m afraid there is no right person for you, Kakashi.”


	2. Game Set Match

It was easier than expected to find the woman. It was also easier than expected to lure her in completely with nothing but charme, which Kakashi attributed to Iruka’s excellent advice. She introduced herself as Hana Yanusu, she was around Kakashi’s age and certainly very beautiful, with long, black hair and dark eyes. She wore a red dress with a plunging neckline that no konoichi would ever be found dead in, which had affirmed Kakashi in his knowledge that she really was a civilian. Still, he left behind his hitai-ate in favour of a simple eyepatch and even removed his trademark mask. After all, these people didn’t know him and they never would, since he had also left behind his name when he had entered the bar. 

He stuck to the script for missions such as this one. When she asked him to join her at her place he didn’t decline. When she led him to her bedroom, he followed. When she ran her hand over his chest, he pulled her in for a kiss….

The woman was asleep now, but Kakashi had been lying awake for a while. He had work to do. 

He pushed away the blanket, careful not to disturb her as he climbed out of the bed, put his clothes back on and snuck over to the large desk by the window. He noticed it was weirdly orderly, oddly clean, like it had just recently been moved into the room, but he thought nothing of it when he found the drawers filled to the brim with documents, scrolls and notes. They seemed to date back years, records of agricultural businesses of any kind, though they were all located i the same region, around ten miles from Konoha. He did not, however, find the document described in the mission scroll. Kakashi reached around the table, until he finally found a small ket taped to the far back underside. It wasn’t particularly ornate, most likely not custom made, probably for a safe or something similar. He looked around the room. There were no other pieces of furniture big enough to hide such a thing in the room, except for a large closet. When he opened it, he found it came with a small, lockable safe compartment. The key fit it perfectly and Kakashi was able to quietly remove a scroll that fit the description of the document described in the mission information. He opened it to copy the contents, careful not to leave any trace that he’d seen it…

… and suddenly, everything went black. 

-

When Kakashi woke up, he didn’t recognize his surroundings. His chakra felt drained even though he must have had been unconscious for hours and his hands were tied to a cold metal pipe. He half sat, half lay on the concrete floor of a small chamber, vaguely reminiscent of an engine room, with its walls covered in the same metal pipes he was chained too and speckled with valves and pressure indicators, its bottom cloaked in a thin layer of steam. 

Fuck. Now he’d have to listen to Tsunade rant about him failing his mission. Or, he supposed, he was going to die, but the chances of that were slim to none, unless he was going to get hit by a freak aneurysm. He should have remembered to pack Icha Icha, he mused, then he probably wouldn’t be bored out of his mind in ten minutes flat. But then again, how was he going to read in the position he was in? 

The door opened. Kakashi didn’t recognize the woman that walked in. She wasn’t particularly tall or wide and her clothing was of no particular make, it was all immaculately standardized to the point of unrecognizability. But the weirdest thing about her was her face: It seemed almost fluid, the eyes, mouth, nose constantly shifting in shape, color and size. She had a face, but not one of her own, or so it seemed. 

“I do not know who sent you. I do not wish to find out. The gas contains a toxin that will drain you of all energy on contact. It’s like bleeding out, except less painful. We’re no barbarians, after all.” 

Kakashi blinked at her. He hadn’t the faintest idea who this person was or why they’d gone through the trouble of luring him in and then spiriting him away to wherever, but he wouldn’t let her see that. He had all cards stacked against him, but maybe he could at least take a peek at his opponent’s deck. 

“No barbarians, hm?” he gave what was a hopefully confident chuckle. “Who are you, anyways? Just so I might address you with the proper title?”

“Oh, you don’t remember me?” 

Suddenly, the facial features aligned, just for a second, to create a familiar constellation. The woman from last night. Hana Yanusu. 

“Anyhow, I shouldn’t stay here too long. I have a meeting.”

And with that, she left.

Kakashi’s mind was racing with thoughts, most of them questions and far too few answers. All he knew was that whoever assigned him this mission would have hell to pay for not getting their intel straight. Civilian his ass! That had been a flawlessly executed trap no civilian could have possibly come up with, no matter how clever. And he had fallen for it. He really was out of it, lately. 

-

Hours had come and passed since Kakashi had regained his consciousness and they had passed far too quickly. The gas that had previously only coated the bottom of the chamber now went up to his chest. The air felt heavy and thick in his throat and his head had developed a searing headache. He’d tried to get out of the restraints, but they were far too tight and there was no room for finger signs. It was ironic, that he wasn’t going to die at the hand of a great villain, protecting his village, but instead alone, left behind by a low-level terrorist. Ironic… 

He’d lost all feeling in his toes about half an hour ago and the numbness was now slowly spreading up his legs. He wondered whether he would even be able to run if he could get free right now. As the first wisps of the gas entered his lungs, he thought back on the people he was leaving behind. He wanted to believe that he would be remembered, missed, even just searched for, but something inside him protested. He had no one that would, it said. He was a tool and tools aren’t missed, they are replaced, it said. You chose this, it said. 

And still, his heart shrouded all rational thought in a warm mist of memory. If these people wouldn’t miss him, he could at least miss them now that he wasn’t going to see them again. He remembered meeting team 7 for the first time, and Naruto, that little shit. Naruto, telling him he wanted to become Hokage and Kakashi promising himself that he was going to help this boy make it far. And he did… He remembered fighting Iruka about the chu-nin exams. Their useless squabble seemed so menial now, but at the thought of Naruto’s old teacher, a warmth spread through Kakashi’s numb limbs. Iruka was always so sincere and supportive and genuine and, well, if Kakashi would have had the choice to pick the last person to have dinner with before his death he probably still would have had dinner with Iruka. The man had always worked so had to see other people succeed without ever asking for anything except that the people around him were happy, especially Naruto, although nobody would have blamed him for hating the kid. 

Admirable, he thought, before closing is eyes. 

And then he thought of Naruto. Specifically, Naruto telling him of his training with Jiraiyah. More specifically, Naruto showing him how he moved the air inside a rubber ball until it exploded in Kakashi’s face. Kakashi could feel his chakra fading into near nothingness and cursed himself for his melodrama. Now he was going to die because he had allowed himself to wallow in self-pity ONCE! Great. Still, he had to try. 

The pipe that held him exploded with a crash that sent metal bits flying across the room, scarring his hands and back. Gas flooded the space to the ceiling and Kakashi held his breath as he tried to stand up and make his escape. He stumbled, but he could stand, and that was all it took. 

He didn’t remember how he got back to Konoha. He didn’t remember passing out by the main gate hours before sunrise. He didn’t remember being carried to the hospital. But he remembered a feeling, the innate knowledge that he was safe now. That he was home.


	3. Take Me Home

Reconnaissance wasn’t meant to take a week. Kakashi was meant to leave and return the next day, with a copy of the document and resume work as usual. But he didn’t. Of course Tsunade had found out. Of course Tsunade was pissed that he’d given the mission to Kakashi instead of leaving it with Kotetsu, as intended by her. Iruka couldn’t care less. Reconnaissance wasn’t meant to take a week, but it had already been two days. 

When two days turned to four, Tsunade wasn’t pissed anymore. Iruka found no relief in that. Two days turned to four and Kakashi was still gone. 

Obviously Iruka still did his work, like normal. He still taught his class, never letting them know how worried he was, because his duty was to these kids first and to his worries second, but people started noticing things about him. His colleagues noticed him missing at lunch, his neighbor noticed him leaving his flat seconds after arriving home from work. At first, people thought he’d found love, that he was in a hurry to meet his sweetheart and he kept it a secret. But Izumo and Kotetsu knew he wasn’t, because when he was missing from lunch or leaving his flat, it was always to come to the main gate and sit and wait. But no-one ever came. 

It was dusk, the sunset of the fourth day, when Iruka finally stood up and walked out the gate. The last rays of a distant October sun were showering the uneven road blood-red, tainting the gravel with bad premonitions. But under all of that visual poetry, it was just Iruka and he was scared. Scared for his friend, scared that Kakashi wouldn’t come back, because it would be his fault if he didn’t. Because then he’d never get to see him again. Or talk to him. See him smile faintly under his mask. Hear him laugh. Iruka had only heard Kakashi laugh once, five days ago, and he couldn’t live with the thought that this had been the first and last time. If Iruka thrived off the happiness of people around him, he shot through the roof when he saw Kakashi happy. Because he knew that for all the happiness Kakashi deserved, he got far too little. 

It was close to midnight when Iruka found him. When he saw Kakashi and his mind went blank. He was lying on his face in the dirt by the road, the back of his vest torn any ripped. There were fresh wounds on his back, jagged and torn, some still bleeding, but none of them big enough to cause fainting. Not for him, at least. It wasn’t supposed to be like that for Kakashi. Kakashi wasn’t supposed to be unconscious! 

When Iruka picked him up, as gently as he could without losing his grip, he felt Kakashi’s body tense. His eyes fluttered open for the fraction of a second and he sucked in a sharp breath of air. 

“Home.”

That was what he said, or rather, that was what Iruka could make out from the silent, barely-conscious whisper that had escaped Kakashi’s lips. Home. As if Iruka could take him to his prison cell of a flat, no sir! He didn’t even know of any neighbors that would check up on him there. They were going straight to the hospital, and then maybe Iruka would consider, CONSIDER taking him to HIS home so he could make sure he would be safe. 

“Shit, Kakashi, I was so freaking worried!” he whispered and then scolded himself quietly for cursing. What kind of behavior was that, where you cussed at your unconscous friend? Iruka was still worried. He knew that they’d make it to the hospital with time to spare, that Tsunade would patch him up in minutes and Kakashi probably wouldn’t even have scars, leave alone any big, long-lasting impairment, but he was still worried. Because what if he didn’t?

-

Tsunade was mad. Not mad that Iruka had assigned a mission to Kakashi that he wasn’t meant to have, no she hadn’t actually cared a lot about that at all. In the bureaucratic mess that were the past weeks she had been approving and assigning missions with hardly any thoughts about them at all, except whom she could spare at the moment. She had actually appreciated Iruka doing his job so meticulously that he would reorganize the entire system so the abilities and preferences of every ninja were applied best. Because she had no desire to do that whatsoever. But of course she couldn’t have told him that, he had defied her authority and as much as she loved not having to work, she needed to keep a grip on her little shits of employees, excluding Shizune, because a) she was no little shit and b) she kept a grip on Tsunade. 

No, Tsunade was mad because Kakashi had the audacity not to return on time. The asshole had the guts to get the entire village worried for DAYS. Not that she’d been particularly tight with him, but whoever was keeping him would have hell to pay, though, she expected, mostly from Iruka. He still worked diligently as ever, because he was Iruka and that was what he did, but one would have to be blind, deaf and also extremely stupid not to notice that Iruka was out of his mind with worry. She wondered whether the two of them were close. 

That’s why she was in no way surprised that it was Iruka who found Kakashi. He delivered him to her in the middle of the night, keeping it together relatively well, considering the state Tsunade knew he likely was in. 

“Tsunade! I swear I’ll burn down the office if you don’t get down here this fricking instant! And save! My! Gosh-darn! Friend!” 

-

When Kakashi woke up, he realized he wasn’t home. Odd. He thought he was. But then again, the hospital ceiling was more familiar to him than his own. And even though he tried so hard not to make getting hospitalized a habit… A sight that definitely wasn’t familiar to him was Iruka sitting in the hospital chair next to his bed. Well, not sitting, it was more of an exasperated slump. He was asleep, Kakashi realized. How long had Iruka been here? How long had he been here? He winced. His back hurt. Right, he’d been a sentimental idiot. A propos sentimental idiocy, why was Iruka here, anyways? And why was Kakashi so unbelievably happy to see him here with him?

Suddenly, Iruka shot up in his chair. He scanned the room, until his eyes came to rest on Kakashi and a soft, relieved smile flooded his face. 

“Kakashi! How are you doing?”

“Absolutely peachy, now that you’re here… “ he paused “...Lady McWoman” 

Kakashi had never seen Iruka look so tired. He knew it was probably his fault with whatever he’d done to be in the hospital. He should really send Iruka home, he shouldn’t be wasting his time with Kakashi anyways. 

“Hey, Iruka, you can go home, if you want. I’m not gonna die…”

“So you can escape from the hospital? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Kakashi laughed. As if he had the guts to escape from the hospital, now that Tsunade was running things. She’d probably throw him out the window if he even dared to leave the bed. Also, the bed was really cozy, so why bother? Then he noticed Iruka wasn’t laughing at all. 

“Shit, Iruka, what is it?”

“You were gone for five days Kakashi. I just… I’m so happy I… We got you back.” 

Five days? He hadn’t thought he’d been gone for that long. How long had he been out? How long had he been scrambling through the woods on his way home? Five days… 

Then he realized: It didn’t matter. Even if he’d been out cold for a year, it didn’t matter because he was back in Konoha, back with his people, back with his friends, back with Iruka. 

“I’m happy to be back”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot bring myself to imagine Iruka cursing for real, I'm sorry but my boy was raised to be more polite than that!


	4. Fine Dining - The advanced class

When Tsunade confirmed that all of Kakashi’s injuries were exterior and mostly minor, Iruka was ecstatic. She noted, though, that Kakashi’s chakra was even more drained than usual. 

“What did you do to manage that?” she exclaimed, looking at his chart, eyes wide in surprise “Actually, don’t tell me, I might have to stab you when you tell me the idiotic things you got up to.” 

Kakashi actually managed to look vaguely remorseful under his mask. “Sorry for the trouble, boss. Next time I’ll just die, if that’s less of a hassle for you?”

“Actually, Kakashi, it might be. Iruka, next time you can just let him bleed out in a ditch, I’ll save some medical supplies.” With that she turned to Iruka, who stood still, completely mortified. 

“All due respect, I could never do that, Lord Hokage!” He exclaimed. At Kakashi’s amused chuckle, he added: “And you don’t joke about that, Mister! You have no idea how much trouble I went through, trying to find your sorry butt!”

“Oh, do tell me more about finding my butt. I hope you found everything as imagined?” 

At which Iruka blushed furiously and Tsunade repressed a snort. 

“Well, we’re releasing you because we need your bed and you’ve got, what, six scratches?” she declared “But because you’re still quite fragile and also an idiot I need you to promise to take care. Let your neighbors handle the shopping and your colleagues do the fighting, ok?”

“Sure.” Kakashi shrugged and got out of bed. The smashing combo of hospital gown and mask, with long, pasty white legs sticking out the bottom finally did it for Tsunade and she laughed loudly, to which Kakashi replied with a raised eyebrow. 

“Tsunade, be professional. Where is my shirt?” 

“You had no shirt when we found you. That was a glorified dish rag, sweetheart.” 

“Hm.” Kakashi contemplated, “That is quite the dilemma. Guess I’ll keep the dress.” 

And with that he disappeared out the window. Or rather tried to disappear, because Iruka caught the collar of the gown and gently tugged him back inside. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll bring you home.” He tugged Kakashi down so he could whisper in his ear. “We both know you don’t have neighbors. I’m not letting you run off and chase whoever got to you as soon as nobody’s looking. You’re coming with me.” 

“But I don’t have a shirt at your place.” Kakashi whispered back, currently unable to come up with a better excuse because Iruka was perfectly right. 

Iruka shrugged. “I’ll borrow you one of mine. And if that doesn’t fit we’ll get one from your place together.”

-

Sure, he’d invited Kakashi to his place mostly because Tsunade had insisted Kakashi had someone take care of his business until he was fully restored. But mostly, he just didn’t want him to have to return to that lonely flat of his. Just because it was normal for Kakashi, it didn’t mean it was supposed to be and Iruka wasn’t about to let his friend sit around all day, alone, especially not after almost dying. Though he almost died a lot. Iruka might just have to live with that. Kakashi certainly did. He didn’t like that, obviously, it made him incredibly uneasy to see Kakashi completely unfazed by the fact that he’d woken up in a hospital yet again, because nobody was supposed to run themselves ragged to the degree that they weren’t even surprised they’d gone beyond their breaking point. 

“Even from a logical perspective...” Iruka picked the conversation back up. “...it just isn’t right what you’re doing. You’re of no help when you’re in the hospital for months!” 

They’d been walking for a while now, Kakashi wearing Iruka’s long coat to make up for the fact that his shirt had been replaced by a thin hospital gown. Iruka’s flat was relatively close to the hospital, but still. it was quite the walk. 

“I know, I know” Kakashi retorted, avoiding eye contact. “It’s part of the job, I suppose.”

“What, being a reckless idiot? I don’t remember teaching that to my students.” 

“Iruka, the vulgarity!” Kakashi feigned an appalled gasp and clutched his heart. 

“No, you listen here. I want you to take better care of yourself!” 

“Aww, you care about me! I didn’t know you liked me like that!” 

Kakashi noticed how Iruka’s cheeks had been flushed by the cold air. He glanced up at Kakashi defiantly. “So what if I do!” 

They walked the rest of the way in silence until they finally reached the tall apartment building Iruka lived in. The two of them made their way up the stairs and Iruka unlocked the door, holding it open for Kakashi. 

It was somewhat of a shock. Not because it was untidy or anything, it was clean and neat. It was just so incredibly… cute. And cozy. There were colorful blankets on a couch that looked so soft that the mere sight of it made Kakashi sleepy. The floor was covered in soft carpet and there was a potted succulent in every corner of the room and on the desk. And the pictures! There were photos of children, all academy age, all smiling, some proudly holding their hitai-ate in their hands, some showing off tests. Some pictures had Iruka in them. A whole lot of pictures had Naruto in them. Kakashi noticed a lovely, framed drawing of a stick figure with a bowl and yellow hair and another stick figure with a crudely drawn hitai-ate and a ponytail. He chucked off his shoes and silently approached it to read the inscription. 

“Me and my teacher, who’s very cool and good.” He chuckled. 

“Oh yeah, when Naruto was little he repaid me for ramen with drawings.” Iruka looked away wistfully. 

“You must miss him.”

“I do. A lot, actually… aaanyways, you sit down on the couch, I’ll make us some food.”

The second Kakashi hit the cushions, the sheer weight of the past days hit him. He hadn’t noticed it during the walk, forgotten about it because he was still, in a way, working, but now that there were no more tasks, nothing more to do he felt it. His legs were still sore, his back bruised and bandaged, tension in his shoulders. He couldn’t help but groan lightly when he sat down. 

Iruka’s head jerked around, concerned. “Are you fine?”

“Yeah, just… tension” Kakashi kneaded the nape of his neck for emphasis. 

“I can get that for you if you want to.” Iruka offered. “You must feel horrible and I promised to help!” 

For a moment, Kakashi considered declining but the second he felt Iruka’s hands on his back, that idea was scrapped. Shit. He was good. His hands were gentle, but firm enough to get the job done extremely well. And the way he kneaded his shoulders, slowly pressing and releasing in a careful rhythm was almost too relaxing. Kakashi melted into Iruka’s hands, settling under his (suspiciously adept) touch. This was good enough to fall asleep to…

-

When Kakashi woke up it was to the sharp smell of something burning and muffled cursing from the kitchen. He decided to investigate. Getting up from the couch, he saw Iruka already approaching him.

“I am so, so sorry. I burnt the everything.”

“The everything?”

Iruka cast his eyes to the ground. “I’m afraid so. I… in all fairness, I must tell you, I have no idea how to cook anything but ramen. I’m really sorry. I just wanted to make something nice and I guess I…” he trailed off. 

“Iruka. Don’t worry. Let me help you.” 

Kakashi gently grabbed Iruka by the shoulder and ushered him back in the kitchen. There he assessed the damage. To Iruka’s protests he replied by stacking the pots and pans with charred residue in the sink and wordlessly opening the fridge. At least Iruka had lots of vegetables. Although, he would need those to keep this fit… 

“So what’s the verdict?” Iruka stopped his train of thought. 

“Hm… “ Kakashi scratched his chin over his mask. “Omelette?”

“Yes sir. I’ll cut some veggies and you go to my room and get yourself one of my pullovers. I’m not having you at the table in… “

“Ass-out couture? Don’t worry, Iruka, I’m leaving this instant, just don’t touch the stove.”

“Well, you are wearing pants under that gown of yours so technically it’s just back-out couture.”

“My, Iruka, you almost sound remorseful!”

To which Iruka scoffed and shooed him out of the room with a series of scolding remarks. 

-

The sweater Kakashi had picked was simple. Dark blue and very cozy. Cute. He looked cute in it. Shit. Iruka wasn’t supposed to think that. He was his friend. But he was also extremely handsome, which, whoa, blue really brought out the pretty in his… everything. And the way the fabric stretched across his muscles was… 

“It’s a little tight.” Kakashi remarked. 

“I didn’t notice that at all.” Iruka replied offhandedly. And then: “If you want I can look for a bigger shirt. That is one of the tightest I own. Why’d you pick that. Nevermind, I’ll just…”

“Don’t bother. I think it’s cozy.” 

-

Kakashi finished cooking together with Iruka, the two of them working in perfect unison, both focused on making this the best omelette they’d ever made, though, for different reasons. Kakashi wanted to thank Iruka for the incredible, undeserved and unparalleled kindness he’d shown to Kakashi, who’d been barely a friend. Iruka was afraid that if he let his mind wander, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his eyes off Kakashi all evening. The was his back tensed under the tight sweater… the food wasn’t the only thing delicious in the room. And Iruka hated himself for thinking it. It wasn’t even that it was the first time he saw Kakashi like this. So why did he have to be this unprofessional right now?

The two of them sat down at the table, after some mental debate Iruka decided to sit next to Kakashi, instead of opposite him. 

“So it’s easier to look away. Because of the mask.”

Kakashi looked surprised. “I don’t actually mind much. I think I can trust you with my face.”

It felt warm when he said that. Like honey and chocolate, sweet and soft and far too nice to be right. It was so little, far too little to merit this... _giddiness_. What was Iruka, some schoolgirl with a crush?

“If it’s not too off-putting?” and with that he took off the mask.

Shit. That was just what he’d needed. How Kakashi could ever think he was off-putting was beyond him. He was… well, in one word, he was gorgeous. Iruka tried to memorize the lines of his face down to the small mole next to his lips because, first of all, every inch of it was annoyingly perfect and second, this was likely the only time he was ever going to see it.  
But he couldn’t let Kakashi know that he thought this way. In a few days this awkward fancy would pass and until then he needed to keep it under cover because he wanted, needed this friendship.

“Dear lord!” he joked “I see why you keep the mask.”

He was going to follow it with a quip about how bad Kakashi looked, but his plans were crossed when Kakashi smiled. Hell, he’d seen the shadow of his smile under the mask but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. 

“That bad?” 

Iruka swallowed hard. “N-no, not at all.” He dismissed, quickly devoting himself entirely to his food. “Itadakimasu!” 

He dug in. It was just an omelette, but it tasted like heaven on earth. Iruka wasn’t even particularly fond of Omelettes but this? He’d eat this all day everyday for the rest of his life if he could. Well, it could partially be attributed to the cook and the company. 

Shit. 

-

He had his mask off. He had his mask off with a person he saw regularly, a person that wouldn’t simply forget him, a person that would remember his face. He had his mask off and he didn’t care the least bit. 

He’d said he trusted Iruka without even thinking about it, but it was true. Kakashi had almost forgotten what it was like to feel this way, to trust simply because you felt like it, no background checks or vows, but now he remembered. Iruka had carried him to safety, him, a distant acquaintance at best and… wait, if he’d carried him to safety… Iruka had looked for him. He’d waited for him. He took him in even though he didn’t need to, wasn’t expected to, just out of the goodness of his heart he’d done everything for Kakashi. He didn’t deserve the least bit of it but Iruka had done it anyways and Kakashi couldn’t repay him with anything but his trust, because, in all fairness, Iruka already had his admiration. 

Umino Iruka was warmth, comfort and safety. He was acceptance and stability to everyone he touched. And Kakashi wanted more of it. He didn’t need this warmth. He didn’t need the comfort. He didn’t need the safety. Of course. But he wanted it so much. 

There was always a certain dullness to life. A certain shadow that was never quite dark enough to be called darkness, but eyes will adjust without light and so will the mind. Kakashi never thought about what his life had been like before it got this empty, because, for him, it had always been like that. But now he’d had a taste of the light and he didn’t want to let it go. He wanted to protect it, keep it, hold it as close as he could. 

Umino Iruka was a wonderful human and Kakashi wanted nothing more than to stay here with him, as long as he could. But he couldn’t tell him that. In a few days this awkward fancy would pass and until then he needed to keep it undercover because he wanted, needed this friendship.

Shit.


	5. A Stranger to Familiarity

Kakashi didn’t look sick, but Iruka knew he was unwell. It was in his movements, the way they were strained and lethargic, not controlled and apathetic like they should be. He knew few people wanted to be babied, but it was hard to suppress the urge to wrap him in a warm blanket and park him on the couch with a mug of tea to stop him from walking around. Somehow he was still adamant on doing something, he was sitting over stacks of paper, filling out mission reports or whatever every time Iruka caught a glimpse of him in the corner of his eye. And it broke his heart. He didn’t know why, but it made him so, so unhappy to see him like this. Maybe because it looked like he didn’t allow himself to be at peace. 

Iruka knew that Kakashi would probably want to leave soon. He was no stranger to chakra depletion, whatever poison he’d taken in could have only done so much damage. He was going to have to let him leave in a few days, tops. Obviously, he didn’t want him to. Seeing Kakashi in the morning, hair even messier than usual, eyes droopy and a dazed smile on his lips was sweeter than any pancake. Even the ones Kakashi had made him. It had confused him, then. Kakashi didn’t seem like the type to make breakfast for anyone, especially when he was supposed to be the one being spoiled. 

“It’s the best I can do to thank you for keeping an eye on me. And you have to go to work so I didn’t think you’d have time to cook.” he’d explained himself. 

He’d stood in the kitchen in jogging pants and a tank top, both Iruka’s, though he didn’t mind the least. Seeing Kakashi in his clothes was… a weird feeling he couldn’t yet place, but he couldn’t deny he liked looking at him. Over the course of the past few days he’d discovered a whole new appreciation for the anbu tattoo, mostly, actually exclusively because it gave him an excuse to stare at Kakashi’s arms. 

Kakashi was smiling. His cursed, beautiful smile that spread all over his face into his eyes and crept right into your heart. Somewhere between sunshine and summer rain. The kind of smile that made Iruka’s heart beat double time. Now he understood why Kakashi wore the mask. If that smile were allowed to roam free nobody in Konoha would be able to concentrate on doing their job. But Kakashi wore his mask. Even when Iruka had guests, the mask was back on. That smile was reserved just for him. Iruka didn’t know what to make of that, he didn’t even know what to call the feeling it woke in him, but it was warm, soft and fuzzy and proud, somehow. 

There was a smear of batter on Kakashi’s cheek. He hadn’t noticed it, still didn’t, going about his work solemnly and contently. 

“Kakashi! You have something on your cheek.” Iruka alerted him.

“Here?” He wiped his face with the back of his hand. 

“Wrong cheek.”

“Here?”

“Little to the left… to the left! Lower… no, no, no. Just… come here, I’ll do it.”

Kakashi raked his head towards Kakashi expectantly. There it was again, that smile. 

“Thank you.” 

He wiped his cheek. He only wiped a smudge of pancake batter off his cheek and yet… he couldn’t help noticing how smooth Kakashi’s skin felt. Couldn’t help but linger and wonder how it might feel under his lips. He felt a blush creep up to his cheeks and quickly wiped his hand on a kitchen towel. 

“There. All clean!” 

“Am I pretty again?”

The reply was mumbled under his breath, hoping Kakashi wouldn’t catch it. 

“You always are.”

Suffice to say the crush hadn’t passed over the course of the last few days. 

-

It had been a cheap trick, smearing pancake batter on his cheeks to get Iruka to wipe it off. If he were another man, Kakashi would have been ashamed to resort to such measures, but he’d made the decision that in matters of Iruka the purpose justified the means. And the purpose was feeling Iruka’s hands on his cheek. For that, Kakashi was willing to be as shameless as he had to be. That also included showing off his cooking skills. Anything to make Iruka like him in any way he could get him to. 

He was happy. He hadn’t been this happy in ages. It was like he was a tree and Iruka was the sun and winter was finally over. In his vicinity, Kakashi was thriving and he dreaded the second he’d be fully restored because although he didn’t want to pester Iruka with his presence he REALLY REALLY didn’t want to leave. 

Obviously he still worked, small office things, whatever he could because that was just what he did. That was his purpose. But for the first time in a long, long while he felt like he had the potential to be more than that as long as he was around Iruka. If he had to be a friend then he’d be a friend, if he could be more than that he’d be the happiest man in the world (he didn’t dare to think about it), but whichever way you took it, over the course of the past few days some tiny notion had started to bloom inside Kakashi that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t meant to be nothing but a mindless worker bee. Because if he were just a cog in a machine, why would he be treated so special by anyone, especially by someone who was such a rarity, such a miracle of a human themselves.

Suffice to say the crush hadn’t passed over the course of the last few days. 

-

The pancakes tasted heavenly. Of course they did. Of course Kakashi had to be a perfect cook, as if he wasn’t perfect enough already. If they were different people, in a different world, Iruka might be tempted to dream Kakashi was trying to seduce him with his cooking. Ridiculous, but he couldn’t help but hold on to the thought. Á propos holding on… 

“Hey, Kakashi?” He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair. “If you want to you can come over more often, when you’re healthy, if you keep cooking for me like that.”

_Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes._

“That would be lovely.” 

-

It was new, the knowledge that Kakashi didn’t just have somewhere to return to after a mission, but also a someone. He’d often heard that home was more than just a place. He thought that now he might get a chance to understand.


	6. Rematch

The day came far too early that it was time for Kakashi to go back to work. He hated having to leave behind the comforts of Iruka’s apartment (including but not necessarily limited to its owner) and when he opened the door to his own flat he noticed, for the first time, how empty it really was. He tried to picture it decorated with pictures and drawings, rugs and recliners but there was still something missing. Then he pictured Iruka there with him, sitting on the couch grading papers and drinking tea, pictured the scent of food from the kitchen, pots and pans still on the stove, big enough to feed two people, and everything clicked into place. That was what he wanted. Just that. 

He went to his bedroom to change. As he pulled off his shirt he remembered that he’d have to bring it to work tomorrow to hand it back to Iruka. He’d been wearing his shirts this entire week. The amounts of laundry Iruka would have to do because of him… Kakashi decided he really, really had to find a way to thank him. Preferably a way that included hanging out with him. In the ideal case a way that included _making_ out with him. Kakashi chuckled under his mask. As if he’d ever be that lucky. Anyhow, he’d have to wait until he was back from his next assignment. He’d left some loose threads and it was time to cut them off entirely. 

-

“You’re letting him return there? On his own?” 

“Iruka, calm down, we have gathered enough intel that-”

“No, Lord Hokage, all due respect but I will not calm down! I respect your decision but it is my duty to let you know that that is beyond irresponsible! Just… at least send someone with him!” 

Iruka was furious. Actually, he was well past furious. It was Kakashi’s first day back at work and as if that wasn’t bad enough, Tsunade expected him to enlist Kakashi to smoke out the hideout he’d been kidnapped to on his own. In a day. He couldn’t do that. He could never again knowingly put Kakashi in a situation where the odds were stacked against him, not if he could avoid it. He realized how that might become a problem, but he was unwilling and, frankly, unable to do anything against it. 

“Intel “ he reiterated, “is not everything. Kakashi is not omnipotent. He might be one of the best jounin we have on retainer, but if you prefer to keep it that way don’t send him there alone.”

“Fine.” Tsunade crossed her arms defiantly. 

“Fine?” 

“Yes. Fine. Have it your way. Umino Iruka, you will hand deliver this mission scroll to Kakashi. It’ll save him a trip since you’ll be doing this mission together.”

-

Yamato tugged on the bag Kakashi carried in his arms. “So what’s that about?”

The two of them were sitting in the break room, waiting to be called to the missions desk. Despite the fact that they hadn’t talked in over a week, there was surprisingly little conversation fuel, mostly due to the fact that almost everything they did was classified. 

“Oh, that’s Iruka’s shirt.” Kakashi replied, forcing himself to sound nonchalant as ever.

“Now why would you have Iruka’s shirt?” Yamato wiggled his eyebrows furiously. 

Kakashi knew how “he took care of me when I was hurt because of my last mission” would sound. It would imply something that was simply too good to be true. He didn’t think he could bear to talk about it. The only thing worse would be just saying that he slept over. So Kakashi just kinda shrugged and stared at the floorboards, hopefully without looking too wistful. 

It seemed he didn’t succeed. 

“Kakashi… what is with you? Actually, let me rephrase, what is with you and Iruka?”

“I… “ Shit. What could he say? How was he going to deflect this one?

“Did you fight? I didn’t even know you were friends so…?”

He considered saying yes and having the topic be done with. He didn’t. “No, nothing like that.” 

“Ooooooooh. Do you… _like_ Iruka?”

“I… “ Say no, say no, say no. “I mean… “ Just say no and have it be done with. “I mean, he is kind of cute. And also a great teacher, shinobi and person, which is why I admire him professionally. ONLY PROFESSIONALLY.”

“So you’re that far gone huh?” 

-

Kakashi was sitting in the break room with Yamato when Iruka found him. They were deep in hushed conversation and… was Kakashi blushing? Iruka saw a shadow of red creeping up under the mask, barely even noticeable, and felt a sharp sting. It was supposed to be him and Kakashi like that, not him and… anyone else, really. It was none of his business and he was sure it was nothing. He’d seen Kakashi blush tons of times these past days. Kakashi blushed easily. Still. It was painful to see him do it without Iruka there to memorize every square inch of his red cheeks. Kakashi was adorable when he blushed, it was unfair and what was especially unfair was that he was sitting right there with another man, blushing and whispering like, like… well it didn’t look like Heterosexual Bro Time With The Dudes, that was for sure. BUT IT WAS NONE OF HIS BUSINESS. 

“Kakashi. I have the mission file for you.” 

He flinched, then turned around slowly with a sickeningly sweet smile in his eyes. Iruka didn’t miss the look Yamato had shot Kakashi, downright suggestive. He desperately wanted to know what they’d been talking about but at the same time he wanted no part whatsoever in this. Kakashi could do whatever he wanted. with whomever he wanted. It was none of his business. 

“Tsunade assigned me to help you with the mission so I’ll be joining you.” And how he regretted it now. 

“No. No way.” Within the fraction of a second all color drained from Kakashi’s face. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” He looked downright panicked. He’d probably grown sick of him, which Iruka couldn’t blame him for. He’d kept him at his flat for almost a week while Kakashi obviously longed for… something else. 

“Well, I can’t reverse the decision. I’m sorry. I know you’d rather have someone else with you.” Iruka shot a dirty glare at Yamato, who, in turn- winked at him? Asshole. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Yes.” 

So Kakashi even admitted it?

“I mean, no, I’m glad to spend time with you under any other circumstances but I… I don’t want to see you harmed.” 

Oh. oh. What was Iruka supposed to feel at that? He honestly didn’t know himself. Normally, he would have been practically bursting with fondness but now it was tinged with bitterness. Maybe Kakashi cared about him. As a friend. He must have known that that was all he was ever going to get but that didn’t make it any easier. 

It felt like shit. 

-

This was probably the only occasion Kakashi didn’t want to have Iruka by his side and it was happening right now. It was bad enough that he wasn’t the first person he saw in the mornings and the last person he saw in the evenings. No, fate had to screw him over twice. Fate had to place Iruka right in the crossfire and tie Kakashi’s hands. Shit, he was worried sick already and they hadn’t even left Konoha. He only knew one thing for certain. He was going to protect Iruka with his life. 

He’d read the file on the woman. Her first name wasn’t Hana, nor was her last name Yanusu, though that was her only known alias. She was Sato Aiko, a civilian from a village near Kirigakure known mostly for its sake industry, but practically completely devoid of ninja. She had no criminal record before last year and there were, in fact, no records at all for about six years before that. But last year she was involved in several kidnappings and attacks on ninja villages. She belonged to an unnamed group that, apparently, orchestrated terrorist attack exclusively on ninja, god knew why, but neither her nor her associates were ranked as particularly lethal. Thank god. 

Iruka was updated as well. It hurt to look at him reading the file, imagining that he’d have to fight these people in a few hours. He didn’t want to picture him getting even a single scratch. And he wouldn’t have to, because he wasn’t going to let it happen. 

-

It was dusk when they arrived. The hideout was a tall building in the middle of nowhere, windows barred and roof almost entirely collapsed. It looked large, but not large enough to hide from Kakashi in. This was going to be a matter of minutes. 

-

It was dusk when they arrived. Iruka had been thinking about Kakashi and Yamato the entire walk. It was undeniable that the two had chemistry, just - 

“We’ll be in and out in under an hour. Just stick to me, ok?” 

\- why did it have to be the two of them? Why couldn’t Yamato have picked anyone else to flirt with? Why did it make him feel so lost? Why did Iruka have to feel these damned feelings?-

“Stay right behind me.” 

-Why couldn’t he concentrate? Why was he just standing there while Kakashi fought? Why couldn’t he help but stare when this was obviously not for him? Why was Iruka cursed? And why didn’t he want to forget he was and just let Kakashi go?

Iruka took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He leaned his arm on the skeleton of a chair and closed his eyes for a second, grounding himself. 

And then Kakashi was gone and Iruka was alone in a room filled with dead bodies, in a house filled with people that wanted to kill him and the man that just might, if they continued this way. 

-

Iruka was behind him. He’d just checked in the last room. Iruka was safe and right behind him. But right now he needed to focus on what was in front of him. 

The woman sat in a tattered chair, expectantly. She’d been waiting for him. Her face, though changing and fluid, was solid in its expression. Acceptant. 

“Kakashi. So you’ve come to kill us?”

“Damage control.” He threw a kunai. He missed. 

“Really? Is it? If you ninjas weren’t doing your damage control like the self-righteous pricks you are my wife would still be alive.” She retorted by pulling a thin string that sent thousands of senbon flying at him. He parried them with ease. 

“If she was a criminal justice had to be done. That’s the price of crime.” He threw another kunai. He missed again.

“But she wasn’t. She was innocent and she died because of an administrative error. So kill me. Please, do. I’ve been waiting for you pigs to catch up to me. At least I’ll die knowing that this shit will be stuck in your head every time you chase after some poor person just because someone told you. Intel is easy to fake. Else we wouldn’t be so successful.” A senbon ripped through his sleeve, barely scarring him. 

Kakashi hesitated. “You’re a ninja, too though.” He motioned at her face. “Or is that not a jutsu?”

She laughed. “Oh no, that’s permanent and it hurts like hell. Courtesy of - guess what - a ninja! Maybe you know him? Slithery bastard, picked me up and dropped me when I wasn’t useful anymore because he was a ninja but I was just a worthless civilian.” 

She’d tried to kill him. Her and her people had killed dozens of innocent people. If he let her go she would continue. He’d read the file. At her hands, seven ninjas had lost their lives. Her people were responsible for countless more. No motive justified murder. No motive justified letting a murderer run free. “Justice will be served. To everybody.” He threw a last kunai. This time he didn’t miss. It stuck there, right in her chest. She coughed. 

“You go on and tell yourself that.” 

But all Kakashi could think was: Thank god it hadn’t come to a worse fight. Thank god because as long as Iruka was as far ways from danger, his world was fine. 

“I think she was the last one, Iruka.”

No reply. 

“Iruka?” 

-

He found him in the hall, on the floor. He was leaning on the wall and for a second, Kakashi hoped that he was just resting. Until he saw the gash in his side, nasty, torn and bloody. Iruka was desperately pressing down on it with a piece of cloth, but it was far too small and the wound far too big. When he saw Kakashi, his head jerked up a little. 

“I’m sorry, they escaped.” He wheezed. “You failed the mission and it’s my fault and I’m sorry, Kakashi, I-” 

“No. Don’t say that. You did so great and you’ll keep doing great and I’ll get you home and it’ll be like nothing happened.”

He gathered him up and carried him, as gently as he could. Still Iruka winced at every movement and cried out in pain when Kakashi adjusted him in his arms. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry Iruka.” 

“Take me home, Kakashi.” 

He closed his eyes. Kakashi shook him, talked to him, screamed at him, but his eyes were shut. All Kakashi could do was hope he’d be in Konoha in time. He’d let this happen. He’d let Iruka get hurt. Iruka was hurt because of him. He’d hurt Iruka. 

Kakashi had hurt Iruka and now he wasn’t opening his eyes anymore. The world around him turned pitch black as the pit in his stomach consumed him until there were only two words left in his mind that he clung to with all that he had. 

Save Iruka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but ya boi cannot write fight scenes to save her life. Since we're on the topic of saving lives...


	7. The Stuff of Fairytales

Iruka knew he wasn’t going to die. He was with Kakashi, that meant he was as safe as he could be. And yet, at the frayed edges of his consciousness, he sensed darkness, closing in. 

There were moments he regained consciousness, moments he spent taking in as much as he could before the pain sent him back to sleep. Kakashi was there for every one of them. He’d found him, Iruka remembered, after he’d lost them. He was going to take him home. 

Sometimes he wasn’t sure whether he was awake or dreaming, these moments when he opened his eyes to find Kakashi gently brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, his face lined with worry as his hand caressed Iruka’s cheek a little too tenderly, a little too lovingly. Sometimes he wished he could just bottle these looks and keep them forever, because there was no way anyone in this world would ever look at him with this sheer devotion. Especially not Kakashi. To love someone that blindly, that openly… well, it was the stuff of fairytales. 

-

Tsunade had expected Iruka to visit her today. Maybe tell her how right she had been and that he wouldn’t ever question her again. Possibly even offer to work overtime to make up for the hours she’d lost because he’d wanted to spend time with his (suspected) crush. She hadn’t expected anything like this. 

“I need help. Please! Tsunade, I know you can hear me! Iruka is down in the hospital and I - he needs you!” 

There was a macabre sense of déja-vu about all of this. She hadn’t exactly been itching to patch up one of her idiot subordinates, though. Definitely not Iruka. 

She hadn’t seen Kakashi like this, either. He’d always been the rational, calm voice in the room, but right now he looked openly scared. He’d led her to the hospital with utmost urgency, directed her to the room as if she hadn’t seen the place before. It was bizarre, to say the least. Kakashi, who barely showed signs of happiness, laid bare completely. He didn’t care, she realized. He didn’t care about his reputation because he was preoccupied with more important matters. Shit, she hadn’t seen something like this since… it had been too long. To love someone that blindly, that openly… well, she’d used to think it was the stuff of fairytales. 

“He’s going to be fine.” She assured Kakashi, having just left the operating room. “I’ve seen much worse. And I mean much, much worse. But he needs to rest now. Do you know anyone in his family that could look after him and be there for him when he wakes up?”

“No. I-” 

“Then I suppose you’ll have to stay with him.” 

The look in Kakashi’s eyes was odd. Over the course of seconds it wavered between elation, worry and what looked like regret. It was like Kakashi had never learned to conceal his emotions, basically. She’d thought he would be happy to have an excuse to stay here with Iruka. Then again, who knew. They wouldn’t be able to keep this game up forever, at some point they would have to talk about it. Kakashi must have noticed how much Iruka had done for him, without ever requesting anything in exchange. Even Naruto wouldn’t be able to misinterpret that. 

-

They’d put him in a hospital gown. He was lying in a hospital bed, an iv in his arm, snoring a little in his sleep. It looked off. 

Kakashi had seen Iruka sleep when he’d stayed over. He wore these massive flannel pajamas with obscenely hideous patterns and his hair was spread out over the pillows like a halo. He had this pair of slippers, Naruto must’ve given them to him, fuzzy and neon-blue. Kakashi hadn’t even known that color existed. He chuckled. He hadn’t known a lot of things before Iruka had come into his life. Hadn’t known Iruka was a disastrous chef. Hadn’t known Naruto was an artist. Hadn’t known looking at a person could make you this happy. Except right now, it only filled him with worry. Iruka had gone pale from the blood loss, his hair still clung to his head with dried blood that they hadn’t been able to get off and the white of the gown made him look almost ghostly. It didn’t just look off, Kakashi realized, it scared him. He couldn’t bear to see him like this. 

-

When Iruka woke up, he found himself in the hospital. His arm was itching and so was his head which, frankly, made him feel disgusting and his left side felt like it had been torn apart and stitched together inside out. He was alone. Of course. He wouldn’t have asked or expected Kakashi to stay with him while he slept off the results of his bad decisions. Hadn’t expected him to neglect… ugh, _Yamato_. 

Still, it stung. Stung differently, but not a bit less painful than the ache in his side. He hated himself for feeling this way, because this was exactly why he’d ended up in the hospital, like the sentimental lost cause that he was, but he couldn’t stop it. It was like someone was holding his heart in their hand and squeezing it until he’d finally die. At least that would have saved him the heartbreak of waking up alone. 

He didn’t even try to stop the tears, wiping at his eyes with the back of his palm when someone knocked at the door. 

“Shit, serves me right that you wake up the minute I leave the room. Are you…” Kakashi left the rest of the question unasked. Fine? Arguably not. Hungry? A little. Absolutely filthy? Definitely. Unbearably happy that you’re here? Undeniably. 

He was carrying a plastic bag in his hand. Upon closer inspection Iruka recognized a box of takeout and… his fuzzy slippers? And his pajamas. Had Kakashi broken into his flat? 

As if he could read his mind, though it was probably due to his questioning look, Kakashi held up the bag and explained himself: “I borrowed your key. I… uh… yea, I shouldn’t have done that, huh?” 

Iruka chucked, which, in turn released a terrible pain in his side. He winced and clutched his wound and instantly, Kakashi was at his side, looking almost comically worried. 

“Are you ok? Do you need anything? Should I get the nurse?” 

“It’s fine, I’m just not 100% healed yet, no need to worry, really. And it’s sweet that you brought my stuff…” he clutched the bag from Kakashi’s hands and looked into his eyes for emphasis on the next part. “...but yes, next time you ought to ask before you do that.” 

Shit, Kakashi had beautiful eyes. They were wide with worry and something else, something far less palpable right now and Iruka wished his smile back, but they were beautiful regardless. Kakashi could smile with his eyes, it was the most gorgeous thing, especially compared to the apathetic expression he bore so often. Not that that wasn’t still the most perfect thing Iruka got to see most days. He was stunning and… blushing? Iruka recognized the telltale red flush that crept out from the rim of his mask. Man, he hadn’t seen that since… Yamato. Well, he’d almost died, he could at least find out the truth if that was the least he’d get from this endeavor. 

“Kakashi, it’s sweet that you stayed with me, but what is Yamato going to think?”

“What’s he supposed to think?” Then suddenly it looked like realization hit him and Iruka felt the pit in his stomach deepen, until Kakashi continued. “He’s probably going to think that I like you. But I do like you and you’re not impeding on friend-territory and you don’t have to worry about the gossip angle anyways, since there it nothing to gossip about, no way, no how.” 

In all honesty Iruka hadn’t exactly listened to the last part. “You’re not with Yamato?” 

He’d never seen Kakashi this surprised. It was vaguely reminiscent of a guy that had just been smacked in the face with a frying pan. Then he started laughing. 

“What gave you that idea?” 

“I don’t know…” He did know. But he was never ever ever going to tell Kakashi, who suddenly looked even more beautiful. 

Iruka hadn’t realized how much these… possibilities had been weighing on him until he felt the weight lifted. It was like he could breathe again and for a second, he was never hurt, never sad and never wounded. He looked at Kakashi’s face, saw the way the light hit the gentle curve of his smile under his mask, the soft spark in is dark eyes, lined with worry and strain and exhaustion, because he had been there for him this entire time. He’d brought his things to make sure he was comfortable and the simple gesture was sweet like sugar and warmer and more genuine than any love confession Iruka had ever read about. And with that he realized. He loved Hatake Kakashi. More than his village, his honour, his own life, even. He’d give anything to be with him for as long as he could. But to love someone that blindly… to Kakashi it had to be the stuff of fairytales. 

-

Mid-laughing Kakashi realized Iruka was still holding on to his hands. Technically he was still holding on to the bag, but shit, Iruka’s hands were on his hands and he’d been staring into his eyes with this look that meant business. And then he’d brought up Yamato, which, ironically was a real woodkiller because the sheer absurdity of it was enough to make Kakashi erupt in laughter. He would have loved to find out where Iruka had gotten that idea. As if Kakashi could even think of another man. Iruka had made that impossible. But on the topic of Yamato… he’d said that Kakashi had lost all privilege to call this a crush. Said Kakashi was well and proper in love. He was right, Kakashi realized, gazing at Iruka’s soft and mildly dazed smile (must have been the painkillers). And here he was thinking that to love someone that blindly had to be the stuff of fairytales.


	8. Don't wake me up

Being around Iruka was like a holiday from life and Kakashi felt guilty as shit but he wouldn’t have anyone else do this, not for all the money in the world. He’d never realized how bland life really had been. When he first met team 7, it was like someone had lit a candle, but Iruka was a fucking supernova. And when he smiled Kakashi burned. 

It didn’t help that it was his fault that Iruka was hurt. Sure, this was a paradise of his own making, but he’d wrought it from regret. Iruka didn’t _seem_ to judge him, but Kakashi knew he did, because how couldn’t he. Kakashi had abandoned Iruka for… he couldn’t even remember, all he saw when he thought back to that day was the blood under his feet and the cold, cold air on his face and Iruka. Only Iruka. 

Still, seeing him like this, asleep in his bed, sunlight filtering through the blinds and casting his face in a soft, golden light… he looked so peaceful, beautiful, almost ethereal. The only tie to humanity was the scar that cut across his face, everything else about him was angelic. Iruka was an angel and Kakashi could only hope that he knew it, because how could he ever tell him?

-

“Iruka. Time to wake up! I made breakfast!” the voice roused him from his sleep. Through his lashes, Iruka could make out a silhouette against the sunlight. Kakashi. 

“Five more minutes!” he pouted “I had the nicest dream.”

“What was it about?” Kakashi asked, sitting down on the bed next to him. Iruka knew he was trying to shake him out of his sleepiness and he was really feeling just lying in bed forever, but how could he not indulge him?

“I was in this house, must have been a bathhouse or something because there was fog everywhere. Maybe I’m just too lazy to imagine four walls, but there was this man… “

“Hm.” Kakashi seemed a lot more invested in this story than he tried to let on. “”What did he look like?”

“Don’t know.” That was a lie. The man had practically been a carbon copy of Kakashi. “Anyways, he seemed sort of familiar, because he kept getting closer to me…”

Kakashi leaned in and quietly asked, almost whispered: “What kind of dream was it?” 

“Think about it. Would I be telling you if it were… you know?” 

Without the mask, Iruka could see the blush in all its glory. A small victory every time. 

“Anyways.” he continued “He leaned in to me, like so.” Iruka propped himself up on his elbows until his mouth was inches from Kakashi’s ear. He had to restrain himself from trying to run his hands through his hair because, frankly, he was dangerously gorgeous up close. 

“And then he said…” Iruka resumed in a low whisper. 

“MY NUTS FELL OFF!”

“Iruka…” Kakashi was frozen. He didn’t move (which is the definition of frozen, but it was necessary to reiterate because there have been reports of mountains moving more than Kakashi did at that exact moment). Except then he did. He started laughing. It began with a small chuckle until he was laughing so hard, that he had to hold on to Iruka for stability. 

“For the love of everything sacred, please tell me you’re not planning to ever say that to a woman!” 

-

Kakashi did make breakfast. Somehow they’d just resumed their routine from when it was Kakashi that needed to be cared for, except now it was Iruka that didn’t go to work and Kakashi that had to leave for missions. He was always home in time to make dinner, though, and he stayed the nights, which had initially surprised Iruka. Missions often took days, weeks, even. He didn’t know what kind of favors Kakashi had to trade in to get jobs this easy, especially as part of Konoha’s elite, but it didn’t feel right asking him. His work was top secret and it was none of Iruka’s business, in fact, he was probably just lucky. And Iruka definitely was lucky. In every sense of the word. 

He wished he had had the guts to say what he’d actually dreamt of. He wished he’d had the guts to take Kakashi by the collar of his shirt and kiss him, right then and there, so this stupid waiting could finally be over. But he hadn’t and so it wasn’t. The pancakes were amazing, though. No surprise there, although Iruka was always amazed by what a fantastic cook Kakashi was. Not just that his fried salmon was to die for, it was mesmerizing to watch him work in the kitchen, the way his back muscles moved under his tight shirt, how he ran a hand through his hair occasionally, the fact that he sometimes wore just a tank top to avoid getting too hot… everything about it was a blessing. Or rather, it would be, if Iruka didn’t have to watch him leave right after. 

He was doing the dishes right now. Not only did he cook and set the table, but he also did the dishes. Sometimes Iruka wondered whether Kakashi knew how much of a saint he was being right now. He remembered when Tsunade had released him from the hospital, he hadn’t even had to ask Kakashi to help him home, he just silently followed suit wherever he went. And then he stayed. 

To his defense, Iruka wanted to help, he really did, but every movement still tore at the stitches. That was the only thing ruining his paradise. The only thing that kept Iruka from frantically trying to dissolve the genjutsu that would have placed him within this perfect illusion of what could only be described as “home”. At the end of the day, all he could do was soak in the moment and let his beautiful, beautiful friend do the dishes. 

“What are you thinking about, Iruka?” 

“You.” 

Shit. Iruka had been lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t thought about what he was saying. But could the truth be that bad if it made Kakashi blush that adorably? Sure, he was a grown man and he killed people professionally, but right now he looked taken aback, severely confused and frankly, cute. Iruka couldn’t help but thank whichever god was listening right now that Kakashi wasn’t wearing his mask. Which, still, made Iruka giddy every time he thought about it because that was _his_ thing, he did that for _him_ and… 

“Huh?” Kakashi blinked. Right. That. Well, he’d dug the ditch, he could only hope it would make a comfortable grave. 

“Did I stutter?” Iruka hoped he looked composed because he was falling apart internally. There was no way this conversation was salvageable. Kakashi definitely thought he was weird. S H I T. 

“Well.” Kakashi cleared his throat. Then he cracked a lopsided grin. “What was I wearing?” 

Iruka could only mumble a reply into his cup and turn away from this vocal trainwreck as fast as he could because the only other option was admitting that this tank top really did it for him and that was NOT going to happen. 

-

Kakashi came home late that day. A risk his profession generally bore, so Iruka hadn’t been too bothered, instead he’d heated up last night’s leftovers and afterwards just waited, staring out the window and hoping for a sign of Kakashi until his back started aching and he decided to relocate to the bedroom and read something. It was there that Kakashi found him when he finally came home, a little bruised, mildly bloody, extremely exhausted but ultimately alive and well. 

When Iruka saw him in the doorframe, he instantly patted the mattress next to him. Kakashi looked tired, he could use some rest. 

Iruka was right, of course, which is why Kakashi silently complied, quickly changed in the bathroom and then went to sit on top of the covers, right next to him. 

“You know, you can get under the blanket. It’s quite cold.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

-

They stayed like that, for a while, in total silence. At some point they crossed over their legs, because Kakashi had cold feet and Iruka’s were really warm. They might have also inched closer, bit by bit, because the bed was a little small and anyways, Iruka found it was quite comfortable to lean his shoulder on Kakashi’s just a little, for support. 

They stayed like that for a while, until finally, Kakashi looked up from his book and spoke. 

“I’m just confused. Do you even hate me? Why are you not… why are you this nice after what happened?

He sounded calm, inquisitive, but there was something else. Iruka knew him too well to overlook it, silent, soft, but definitely there. Fear. 

“Kakashi. Why would I hate you? You have been nothing but good to me.”

“You got hurt because of me. I didn’t look out for you and I hope I can make up for it and you’re letting me, but please, tell me it can ever be enough, because I don’t know. You got hurt because I abandoned you and I don’t know what to do.”

The look in his eyes was heavy, full of sorrow and so sincere and mournful that Iruka couldn’t help but take his hand and hold it as tightly as he could, just so he could be there for him physically. To know that Kakashi had been beating himself up like that, over Iruka’s stupid mistake….

“It’s no more your fault than it is Tsunade’s. Or Shizune’s. Or, in fact, Naruto’s! Nobody could have seen it coming, believe me. It’s not your fault, and even if you had the faintest bit of blame to take, I’d never think any worse of you for it. Couldn’t. You’re just… too important to me.” 

He said it and he tried to pour every shred of love he had into these words. Every bite of breakfast, every word they’d said and smile they’d shared. He said it and wrapped everything he always wanted to say up in those words, that seemed so meaningless compared to what he had been trying to tell Kakashi for so long. He said it and he wished he’d said “I love you”.

-

Kakashi stared at him with disbelief. How could Iruka not see what a shitty thing he’d done? How could he just look past that? He was truly exceptionally kind. And, Kakashi was reminded, as he looked into his soft, kind eyes, too beautiful for this world. Too beautiful for him. And yet he was right there, next to him, holding his hand and not anyone else’s. That had to count for something. 

“For what it’s worth, you mean a lot to me, too.”

Iruka didn’t reply, but simply closed his eyes and rested his head on Kakashi’s shoulder. It fit surprisingly well into the crook of his neck, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that finally came together. The strands of Iruka’s hair tickled Kakashi’s collarbone and as he went to carefully push it out of the way, he noticed Iruka had fallen asleep, still holding his hand. 

He’d be damned if he let anything happen to Iruka ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Facts about the author:  
> 1) I listen exclusively to Britney Spears while writing  
> 2) I firmly believe that neither Kakashi nor Iruka can flirt well. That's just. No. Not my idiots. But if you want something like that I'll do something like that  
> 3) I actually didn't think anything through I had like 1 plot point planned out but that's done and I have only a vague concept of where I'm going but I'm getting there. Whoop whoop, all aboard the nowhere train  
> 4) This entire fanfic is only for my friend, I'm more of an uuuuuh Hidan person than a KakaIru person and I hope it doesn't show. Don't get me wrong though I definitely dig this pairing. A lot.  
> 5) I never re-read my stuff so hmu if you find a spelling mistake because me and my writing program don't vibe syntactically


	9. The Healing Process

It pained him to say it, but Kakashi was settling in well, living with Iruka. Not because he didn’t enjoy it, he loved every second of it, but because at some point he’d have to leave. Although sometimes he felt like he didn’t have to. Like Iruka wouldn’t mind if he stayed with him a little longer than he needed to. He was just that kind and welcoming and so, so sweet. He really was too good for this world. Kakashi decided that he needed to do something nice for him, once he woke up. 

They were still in Iruka’s bed, Kakashi had fallen asleep without meaning to only minutes after Iruka had and he’d just woken up in the same upright position, Iruka’s head on his lap. Getting out of bed was out of the question, he had to miss work, which made him feel absolutely inconsolable, so he shed a metaphorical tear for all the work that would not get done and that he had no way of doing and concerned himself with more pressing matters, namely waiting for Iruka to wake up. He took up his book and started reading and, lost in thought, gently running his hands through Iruka’s hair. Shit, it was soft. And pretty…

-

Iruka had been awake for a while now. He hadn’t said anything, mostly because he wasn’t certain how to approach the subject. 

“Hey, I notice you’re petting my hair but I noticed but also keep doing it because your hands are really nice and I literally crave your touch?” - no, too forward. 

“Good morning?” - a little startling and also he’d stop patting his head, which was the opposite of what he wanted. Maybe… 

Iruka leaned into Kakashi’s touch ever so slightly, just enough to get a better angle, not too much, so he’d realize he wasn’t asleep. Kakashi responded by threading his hand through the long strands that covered his neck and running his hand over his skin. Crap, that felt nice. There was a tingle down his spine and suddenly, Iruka couldn’t stop imagining soft kisses down his shoulders and hands sliding down his spine, caressing every inch of his skin… 

Wasn’t Kakashi supposed to be at work by now? Iruka spun his head around so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash.

“What time is it?” 

-

“What time it it?” Iruka asked and if shame was toxic Kakashi would be so dead he might as well never have been born. Iruka was looking at him under his book, his big, brown eyes locked directly with Kakashi’s and Kakashi wanted to melt into the floor. 

“It’s ten fifteen.” He responded casually, as if his hand wasn’t still tangled in Iruka’s hair. 

“Then why aren’t you at work?” 

“Ah, they don’t need me.” Why couldn’t he get his hand unstuck? Shit shit shit shit how long had Iruka been awake? 

“That’s good. Because I do.” 

Kakashi had no idea why Iruka was so nonchalant about this whole thing. Was hair stroking a thing normal friends did often and he just hadn’t heard about it yet? He considered the possibility and decided that it was the likeliest option, because why else would Iruka just lie there with his head on Kakashi’s lap, staring at him with his beautiful, beautiful face and telling him that he… needed him? Oh no. That was just too good. He quickly slid his hands out from under Iruka’s head to make the finger signs and… nothing.

“What are you doing?” Iruka laughed. He had this gorgeous smile that made his whole face light up with joy and every time he laughed, it was like Kakashi’s whole world shrunk down to fit only Iruka and himself, everything else was not important. Nothing could ever replicate how perfect it was, how it could make him feel. 

“Dissolving the genjutsu.” Kakashi replied sheepishly, to which Iruka only laughed louder. 

“You’re too paranoid. You need to spend less time on missions and more time at home.”

“With you?”

“I do hope so.”

Kakashi hadn’t even realized that he’d thought of Iruka’s place first when he’d said home. Maybe because his flat had never been particularly homely. But here? Here he felt right at home. He felt like he belonged there, because he fit so well, like this life was a mold waiting to be filled and now Kakashi was there and everything just fell into place. 

He’d always hated work. It was boring, menial, a lot of the paperwork could easily be summed up on a sticky note, but he’d always done it, eventually. It was his obligation. It was also the only part of the day that he didn’t waste. There were so many lost hours in the past, endless stretches of time he couldn’t remember because all he’d done was reread his books and stare at the wall and wait for himself to be ready to do something. It wasn’t as unpleasant as it sounded in retrospect. It was nice to just zone out and get lost in the story, but at the end of the day, he’d been just that. Lost. Not with Iruka. With Iruka he could remember every second. He could close his eyes and still picture every small detail of his face, every word he’d ever said, every time they’d touched. 

The albatross can fly over 1000 kilometers a day without flapping its wings. It just glides, using air currents and the wind to reach its destinations. But its wings are extremely heavy and the landing is oftentimes complicated, with the albatross hurting itself, so it flies extremely long distances without ever touching down.  
Kakashi had been in the air all his life. It had never been difficult, it felt natural to him. So little tied him to the ground and when something finally started to weigh him down, he’d been afraid of landing. He’d seen the ground, though. He’d almost felt the grass under his feet for a while. But then Naruto and team 7 had left him and he was back up in the air. Until Iruka came and practically ripped him out of the sky and Kakashi realized: He was no albatross. He was never meant to have his head in the clouds, he was meant to be down here, with his people, no matter how much it could hurt. It was all worth it, because this was right. 

-

Kakashi looked at him as if he were thinking about something important. Iruka studied his face as his eyes went soft for the fragment of a second and wondered what he was thinking about. Probably Naruto. He had no idea why, but the boy had such an effect on people. Naruto was such a good kid and he’d worked so darn hard to make people respect him and he’d done it. He was Iruka’s favourite success story because Naruto deserved every bit of love he got. In fact, he deserved even more affection and admiration.  
Iruka missed him. He missed all of his students. He’d been home for days now and sure, being around Kakashi was amazing and having someone cook for him was a pretty good deal as well, but everytime he left for work, Iruka was all alone. He’d even go so far as to say he missed his job. After all, it was more than just work. In a way, those were his kids, too. 

“What is it?” Kakashi sounded worried. Iruka hadn’t noticed he looked openly sad, but if Kakashi had picked up on it, he had to look miserable. 

“I just miss my kids.” Iruka confessed. 

Kakashi nodded pensively, then got out of bed, sliding away from under Iruka’s head. He instantly missed the contact and pouted a little, not enough to let anything on but enough to express that that had been comfortable and Kakashi shouldn’t have moved. Completely innocent. 

“I have an idea.” Kakashi announced. “You stay here, I’ll make you breakfast and then we’ll spend the day doing something fun. I can get my Icha Icha VHS collection, if you’re into that but I’m open for suggestions.” 

“So you’re really just not going to work?”

Kakashi shrugged his shoulders and nodded. 

“Tsunade will kill you.”

“I’ll take that risk.”

Iruka smiled and tried to get up. Instantly, he winced. The threads in his side pulled at his flesh and the not-completely-healed scar ached painfully. In an instant, Kakashi was at his side, propping him up with one arm and stroking his back with another. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, no need to worry.” Iruka lied. Pain was coursing through his entire torso. He’d probably slept wrong. “But whatever you have planned for today, please conduct it indoors and without me moving.” 

“Promise.” Kakashi said and his eyes told Iruka that he meant it. He carefully helped Iruka sit up against a pillow and then got away. The ache in Iruka’s side was slowly ebbing off and he decided to read something while Kakashi was working his miracles. 

While perusing the stack of literature he’d had Kakashi stack on his bedside table for him he thought about how well he’d settled into living here with him. It was almost suspicious how Kakashi had just decided to stay there as if there wasn’t even discussion to be had about this. Maybe, Iruka thought, when you’d been part of the super murder squad that was ANBU since you were a kid you weren’t exactly bound to wind up with the best grasp on societal convention. Too busy murdering. Which, in all honesty, had Iruka puzzled in several other aspects, first and foremost how did a guy this closely acquainted with death get so sweet? A majority of his cuteness was his obliviousness to how cute he could be, sure, that was a given, but his thoughtfulness and kindness? That he just took such good care of him like he considered it normal to pamper someone with a light scratch… maybe that was a pack instinct thing. Because of the dogs? It was a mystery. So much of Kakashi was absolutely inexplicable to Iruka, the more he saw of him, the more he didn’t understand…

He was roused from his thoughts by the scent of breakfast wafting through the door. Iruka looked down at the book in his hands. He had not read a single word. Slightly peeved, he put it back on the nightstand. When he turned back around, he saw Kakashi leaning on the doorframe, breakfast tray in hand. And what a sight it was. 

He was wearing fluffy socks, wide, grey sweatpants and a white shirt that hung off his shoulders just loosely enough to accentuate his strong, sculpted shoulders while at the same time be inviting enough to relax in bed together the whole day. His hair was in his permanent bedhead, but even more so now that he was actually fresh out of bed. Iruka hadn’t seen him with his mask on for days, which he was extremely grateful for, because it allowed him to see the full glory of his face, from his soft eyes that seemed to be miles away but were actually deceptively attentive, his perfectly angled chin to the mole that sat right under his fine, temptingly kissable lips. Kakashi was smiling proudly, walking over to Iruka and setting down the tray to sit on the edge of the bed next to him and for a minute or two, all thought evaded Iruka except for a single notion. 

“Shit, I want to kiss you so much right now.” 

-

He’d known Iruka had been lying when he’d said that he was fine, but what was Kakashi to do, but make sure he was as comfortable as he could be in his current position and get his jobs done? After all, he was of no use to Iruka standing around and worrying all day. 

He got into the kitchen, sent a few letters and then went about making breakfast for Iruka himself. As he went through the frequently-rehearsed movements, his brain went into deep thought. It was odd, he thought, that Iruka just kind of kept him around for all that time. He couldn’t deny himself the knowledge that Iruka seemed to like having him with him and Kakashi’s heart beat a little faster with joy. He’d made a big gamble when he just wordlessly accompanied Iruka home and continued looking after him in the hopes of seeming… what, charming? But in actuality, he’d been so afraid, the entire first day, that Iruka would ask him to leave. When he’d allowed him to stay, that evening, Kakashi had been practically flooded with relief because the reality of coming home to his empty, bleak, Iruka-less flat was gut-wrenching. And yet, he never had to. Iruka allowed him to stay with him and to this minute enjoyed having him around, even though he should have had enough of Kakashi at this point. So much of Iruka was absolutely inexplicable to Kakashi, the more he saw of him, the more he didn’t understand…

He slid the food onto two plates and sat them down with two glasses of orange juice on a tray, arranging it nicely with some fresh fruit. Kakashi regarded his masterpiece proudly, then looked into the window, not to look outside but to check his reflection. He looked tired and his hair was a lost cause. He’d left behind anything even remotely attractive in favor of fuzzy socks, old sweatpants and a shirt that did absolutely nothing for him whatsoever. Trying to salvage just about anything, he ran a hand through his hair, but he ended up making an even bigger mess of it. He’d just have to make up for it in presentation. 

Kakashi picked up the tray and snuck over to the bedroom. The plan was to get into position, then catch Iruka’s attention and make him fall hopelessly in love with Kakashi (though there was not much hope for the success of step 3), but when Kakashi stood in the doorframe, he saw Iruka sitting in the bed and reading and Kakashi couldn’t do anything but melt into the doorframe and look at him. 

Iruka’s hair had fallen into his face and he stared at the words with such a concentrated expression, it was hard not to fawn over how cute his scrunched-up face could get. The morning light was casting the room and everything inside it in a soft, ethereal glow and it seemed almost unreal how serenely beautiful the scene laid out before Kakashi was, if it weren’t for Iruka’s pinched mouth and furrowed brow. Kakashi thought of running his hands over his facial expressions and smoothing them down until they were the gentle, lively face he remembered. He thought of kissing the corners of his mouth until he couldn’t help but smile again, because that was when he was most beautiful (Not that he wasn’t always beautiful, he couldn’t recall a single thing he’d rather look at than Iruka’s face). But of all the thoughts that ran through Kakashi’s head, one was the most prominent: 

“Shit, I want to kiss you so much right now.” 

But then Iruka closed his book and looked at him, probably expecting to bring over the food, so Kakashi did his best impression of a man that was not just caught mooning over his crush and slid over to sit on his bedside. 

“Hey.” he croaked. 

“Breakfast?” Iruka inquired.

“Uh-huh.” Kakashi nodded and slid the tray over to rest between them. His legs accidentally came to rest right next to Iruka’s, practically touching, but neither of them budged. He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks and hoped it wasn’t as visible as it felt. 

-

Kakashi was blushing. Undeniably blushing. And he was blushing because their legs touched. Was that such a novel thing to him that his entire face would go red on contact? It might be, Iruka thought, after all that wouldn’t be the only odd thing. ANBU stuff, probably? Iruka didn’t expect to comprehend Kakashi but he did enjoy being so close to him. He’d left the bed to cook so he was a little colder than Iruka who’d been in bed this entire time. The difference in body heat was oddly comforting but at the same time, it constantly demanded Iruka’s attention and he was a little too willing to give it. 

He quickly reached for his plate and began eating to get his mind off Kakashi’s distracting closeness. As always, the food was amazing, but Iruka hadn’t expected anything different. It was almost perfect: He was having a delicious breakfast in bed, served by the man of his dreams and snuggling up close next to him while enjoying the perfect morning with the perfect food and the perfect person. Except, Kakashi was the perfect friend and Iruka would rather he be the perfect _boy_ friend. The difference left a heavy feeling in his chest, cold and frayed at the edges and spreading through his body from his heart down to… 

His hand was suddenly grabbed in excitement. Iruka stared at Kakashi who looked back at him with sparkling eyes and a happy smile playing around his lips. 

“I forgot to tell you! I have a surprise for you!” 

“Oh?” Iruka wondered. “What is it?” 

“It should arrive any minute.” Kakashi tried to look as intriguing as possible as he replied. 

“It’s nothing too big I ho-” Iruka was interrupted by a loud knock at the door, then a few more quiet ones. Kakashi quickly dashed to the door, then there was silence except for the sound of feet shuffling in the hallway, then some hushed giggling and a sharp shushing sound and suddenly a horde of screaming children flooded into the bedroom like a wave of destruction. 

“Oh shit! Sorry sensei!” A completely overburdened Sakura apologized furiously as she did her best to collect the rowdiest among the children. Kakashi was back to lounging in the doorframe, watching the debacle unfold. 

Sakura had brought a bouquet of flowers and Moegi and some other girls were also holding a few crumpled wildflowers. The boys, who were now settling down on the floor, windowsill and any other flat surfaces available had brought everything from chocolate to extra interesting pebbles. 

Words escaped Iruka. His heart was almost bursting with happiness and he had to actively hold back from trying to jump out of bed and hug every single person in this room, but first of all Kakashi. 

“You did this for me?” Iruka wiped a single tear from his eye. He hadn’t even noticed it was there but he was just so, so happy.

Kakashi simply nodded. 

“Sensei Kakashi sent me a note this morning that you needed some cheering-up and your substitute at the academy was just overjoyed that I wanted to take the kids on an excursion.” Sakura explained, smiling widely. “He put everything in motion for you, lucky!” 

“I - thank you.” He still didn’t know what to say. Lucky for him, his students did.

“Sensei Iruka, when are you coming back?” 

“The substitute suuuuuuucks.” 

“I’ll even do my homework all the time, Sensei pleeeeeease come back?” 

-

He was adorable. He was beautiful. It was like he was glowing with joy and oh god, he looked so perfect, it wasn’t fair. Kakashi couldn’t help but smile when he saw how happy Iruka was. He didn’t even notice he was staring until Sakura pulled him aside.

“So. Does he even know you love him?”

“He- I don’t -” Kakashi took a deep breath. “He doesn’t.” 

“You should tell him. I have a good feeling about this. “ She motioned between them. “You two.” 

Did she? She did? She did. Well, maybe he should. Because seeing Iruka like this, Kakashi didn’t know how long he’d manage to keep himself from kissing Iruka senseless.


	10. Fine Dining for Experts

It was weird, seeing Kakashi leave. Weird because he’d been staying in the guest room for the past few weeks and now it would be empty again, for an unforeseeable amount of time. Weird because Iruka would have to cook for himself again, which he was really not looking forward to. Weird because Iruka was madly, irrevocably in love with him and for a while, it had seemed like he had him. But now he was standing in the doorframe, watching Kakashi collect his few belongings with a slow slouch that seemed to linger at every piece of furniture and every decorative item, not because he wanted to stay, but because that was just how he was. Because if he wanted to stay, why didn’t he just? 

Every second Iruka watched him, slowing at every possible occasion, but never really stopping, he fought the urge to wrap his arms around him and hold him as tight as he could, as long as he could. Not that he could ever hold onto Kakashi, it didn’t seem possible to tie him down long enough for even a hug, but when Iruka saw his hair reflecting the afternoon sun, his strong, but infinitely careful hands and his worryingly tentative movements he could almost feel him in his arms, melting against him and staying. Just staying. 

The words were out his mouth before they even hit his head. 

“Stay?” 

Kakashi turned around and for a second, his eyes spoke of a soft, hopeful recognition that Iruka could only think he imagined. Maybe a reflection of his own, because, hell, he wanted this so much. But then Kakashi replied, softly, almost as if he cared.

“Aren’t you sick of me already?” 

“How could I ever be?”

-

 _How could I ever be?_ Well, that was easy. So easy, in fact, Kakashi had expected to be chased out of the house days ago. Except not chased, because it was Iruka and from his mouth even rejection would sound like the sweetest thing and oh god, he wanted nothing more than to stay here forever. 

They’d been to the hospital this morning, to get his stitches pulled. He knew that it stung like hell when you weren’t used to it, so Kakashi had innocently offered his hand for Iruka to hold, just so he had something to focus on that wasn’t pain. Not, you know, just for the entirely selfish purposes of feeling his warm palm under his gloved fingers. Kakashi’s heart had probably been racing worse than Iruka’s. And then Tsunade had announced that Iruka could return to work and it had stopped. For all Kakashi could feel, it hadn’t started beating again, either. The way home, all through the cold, insecure silence, every second of Kakashi collecting his things because he’d have to, right? - There had been nothing in his chest but white-hot emptiness and an eerily hopeful sense of unsureness and hope that maybe, just maybe, Iruka felt just as hopeless as he did. And then he’d asked him to stay and everything broke. There was no other explanation except that something had broken loose inside of Kakashi that very moment, something strange and wild and tame and so, so warm. Love, Kakashi realized, this was the sweet side of love. 

He’d made his experiences with bitter love. He still made them, day for day, it was rooted into his being, it had made him who he was. The type of love that stays after the beloved is gone, the type of love that fills the gut-wrenching emptiness and makes it so much worse because it replaces sadness with the tear and burn of hopeless longing for something that life couldn’t give you anymore. 

He’d made his experiences with sweet love, too. He’d studied it from afar through books and the life around him that flourished like hot-red carnations while he wilted down to the small, humble existence he’d secured himself. Every time he’d seen it in a stranger’s eyes it seemed like watching an entirely new world through barred windows. In his books he read it described as a burning in your stomach, a flutter of your heart, losing your mind and he imagined seeing through the character’s eyes and feeling as they did. It was the only notion of escapism in his bleak, grey existence that he allowed himself. Except that now, he looked back at the descriptions in the books and realized they’d gotten it wrong. It was all of those sensations, but so much more. Much more than anyone could possibly put into words. Love was the memory of Iruka fiercely defending his students, never once being afraid to fight for what was right. Love was the realization that Kakashi was safe, cared for, even at his worst. Love was the gentle weight of Iruka’s head on his shoulder and the pride that came with it. Love was the sparkle in Iruka’s eyes when he was around his students. There was so much love within Iruka and, like a magnet, it had in turn pulled out a love in Kakashi he hadn’t even known he was able to feel. And yet he felt it right now, looking into Iruka’s perfect, dark eyes...

“Kakashi?”

And with that he realized he’d been staring at Iruka for a full minute. This was absolutely hopeless. Something had to be done. By him. He would do something. He did not know how, but when did he ever? And he was still alive, so. So what? Oh no. He was staring again. Shit. Damn. Fuck. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“YEAh I’d love to stay. Dinner?” 

Smooth, Kakashi. Real smooth. 

“Dinner seems lovely.” Iruka replied and Kakashi’s gut sagged down a little when he looked into his eyes and saw the warm, kind familiarity that he adored so much, except now it was only for him, only for this moment. Iruka held out his hand and Kakashi took it, allowing himself to be led into the kitchen and away from his bag, as if he’d never seen the place before. It felt strange and ethereal and wonderful and so unlike anything he’d ever done, despite being so deeply human. 

And as Kakashi trailed behind Iruka, allowing himself to be led, holding onto his hand ever so gently, he made a decision:

He was going to tell Iruka he loved him. 

-

Iruka had no idea why he’d taken Kakashi’s hand just then, it had simply felt right. And it sure as hell still did right now. 

Kakashi had cooked for him dozens of times, the entire time he’d stayed with Iruka, in fact, and yet, it felt different now. Maybe because there were no more excuses. No woulds, no injuries. If he wanted to leave, there was nothing keeping Kakashi. But he stayed. And then Iruka had taken his hand and he hadn’t withdrawn but actually leaned into his touch. 

Iruka decorated the table while Kakashi worked his magic in the kitchen and both of them operated in perfect silence, in perfect unison. Occasionally he would sneak glances at Kakashi’s slender form and just as often he’d catch Kakashi looking at him from the stove and as their eyes met he saw something wondrously familiar in them. And as he observed Kakashi working with such diligence and dedication, he made a decision. 

He was going to tell Kakashi he loved him. 

-

The table was set by the time dinner was finished. Iruka had done a lovely job, more than expected and much, much more than necessary. There was even a vase of fresh flowers which Iruka must have relocated from his bedroom. Sunflowers, bright and bold and beautiful. They suited him perfectly, Kakashi thought as he sat down his plate and then went to give Iruka his own. When he leaned over his place from the side, his hand briefly grazed Iruka’s and he considered abandoning all social convention (or all he knew of it) and just kissing him right then and there. But he had a plan and he’d be damned if he couldn’t bear waiting at least until after dinner. Also, the food shouldn’t go to waste after his eventual, scarily likely rejection… but he preferred not to think about that right then. 

He sat down opposite Iruka and for a second, all words left him. Even if he could speak, there was nothing he wanted to say. He just wanted to stay right there, right then, because as nervous as he was, it was nothing against the glee he felt at seeing Iruka in front of him, just as pretty as ever, smiling his bright, perfect smile, his face framed by a bouquet of sunflowers that stood no chance against his own radiance. He wasn’t talking either but simply looked at him, finally looking up into his eyes. 

And Kakashi thought he understood. 

“Iruka?”

“Yes?”

“Remember when we first had dinner together?” 

Iruka nodded, a slight blush coming to his cheeks. Kakashi wondered if he maybe had the right thing in mind already. 

“You told me…” Kakashi paused, touching his finger to his lips questioningly (though entirely for dramatic effect). “...I wasn’t very good at flirting. Would you care to help me get better?” 

Now Iruka’s entire face was red. This was a good sign, right?

“I really do need your help. Wouldn’t want to be… how did you put it? All bark and no bite. After all, the bite is the most enjoyable part.” For emphasis, he took a bite of his food, as languidly as possible without dropping the fork out of nervousness. 

-

W H A T ?

-

Iruka stared at him incredulously, but then he nodded, which concluded the first stage of Mission: Kiss Iruka. Kakashi’s heart was practically falling out of his chest, he was probably sweating like the idiot he was, his hands were so clammy he was seconds from dropping his glass but it was too late now. 

“Well… “ Iruka finally replied “saying the bite is the most enjoyable part… that’s pretty kinky, Kakashi.“

Kakashi was pretty sure this was what a short circuit felt like, except in his brain. 

-

Iruka was going to confess to Kakashi! Not the other way around! He had to take control of the situation. Whichever way possible. 

“So, Kakashi. Do your best. Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” 

Suddenly, an idea hit him and he winked lasciviously. 

“Unless that’s what it takes to get you in the mood?”

Iruka was certain he was blushing, but it didn’t matter, because Kakashi was well and truly red. His face was flushed to his temples and yet, he somehow maintained his impenetrable, calm expression. Luckily, his cheeks would always betray him. Iruka could almost see him scrambling for words behind his perfectly composed exterior and he was absolutely delighted, because, first of all, that meant that Kakashi was at least open to the possibility of flirting with Iruka and that was as solid a foundation as he could have hoped for and, secondly, he, Umino Iruka, a mere humble teacher with no special skills beyond that was responsible for Hatake Kakashi, the gosh-darn copy-nin being at a complete loss for words. And just for a minute or so, Iruka decided to indulge. 

“What, now you can’t think of something?” he teased, somehow walking the fine line between mean and dirty, “Don’t worry, it looks good on you. Maybe you can build your strategy on that?” 

As he continued speaking, he shifted his voice back into its usual lively, but sober tone and Kakashi responded by clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head. Damn, he looked good when he did that. 

“Well, if I were perfect at this I wouldn’t have asked you. But you seem like you have more expertise than I expected. How come?”

“Oh, I never kiss and tell.”

“So you were planning on kissing?” 

Now it was Iruka’s turn to blush and stumble through sentences. “Kakashi… uh… you… um, you… “ He coughed slightly. “You have improved from last time, I see.” 

“Yeah? Might be because I’ve had some very good inspiration since then.” Kakashi replied and had the actual nerve to slowly drag his gaze across Iruka’s body. Who, in turn, could only hope he wasn't sweating. But Kakashi wasn’t done yet. 

“My issue is; you vetoed the tapeworm line and that was my go-to, so now I’m all out of things to say. Which is why we really, really need to repeat the scenario from last time so I can see what I can think of in the heat of the moment.” He had a frustratingly innocent look on his face as he spoke, as if he was making a purely professional business proposal and not a request to practice parasite-related dirty talk and Iruka had no idea what to do except nod and lean back in his chair. 

_Kakashi had gotten up almost too fast to notice and before Iruka had known, he’d been leaning down over his shoulder, his grey hair brushing against Iruka’s cheek, whispering some clichéd indecency that Iruka couldn’t be bothered to remember. He’d known that he’d be fully able to see Kakashi’s head back then, because he’d still been wearing the mask- Iruka hadn’t seen the godforsaken thing in ages and he wasn’t looking forward to, either- but Iruka hadn’t looked at him. Things would have been so much easier if he’d just kissed him right then and there. He shouldn’t let another chance slide by._

But Kakashi wasn’t dashing around the table too fast to see, not this time. Instead, he slowed his movements down to a hardly bearable pace, dragging out his movements languorously. But there was no distant apathy, no careless slouch left in his body, no, the way he allowed Iruka to see him in motion was practiced, precise, exquisite to a point. He leaned over Iruka’s shoulder, gently brushing away a few hairs, his hand lingering a little too long for it to be accidental and Iruka didn’t dare to breathe. He felt the heat radiating off Kakashi’s face next to him, closing in frustratingly slow until he finally spoke, softly and carefully:

“I think you’re the most beautiful thing on this planet. I don’t think I can go on without telling you that. You’re absolutely stunning and I just want to hold you and kiss you and never let you go.” 

Iruka couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He could only stare at the wall while all control slid away from him. Seconds slid by. Nothing happened. 

-

Seconds slid by. Nothing happened. Had Kakashi misread Iruka? Had he been projecting his own feelings this entire time? Iruka hadn’t been nervous, he’d been uncomfortable. And now Kakashi had made it so much worse. He started backing away, mumbling apologies when suddenly-

Iruka’s lips were on Kakashi’s, gentle, yet so insistent. His arms were slung over his shoulders, pulling him back down towards the chair. He was gentle and secure and somehow still so firm and Kakashi couldn’t help but lean in and wrap his fingers in his long brown hair. He smelled of fabric softener and cookies and the flowers that littered his room and all things warm and good. Kakashi just wanted more. He shifted even closer to Iruka and… 

promptly lost his footing and stumbled to the floor, his head hitting the corner of the table. Well, at least he was going to die here with Iruka.

-

When he woke back up, he was lying on the couch, his head cradled by Iruka’s lap, who had his fingers tangled in his hair, holding an ice pack to his forehead. 

“Hey.” He croaked, mildly dazed. “So. Did we really kiss?”

Iruka nodded. “Yup. And you hit your head because you were overwhelmed by how incredibly perfect I am.” 

“How do you kno-” Then he saw the smug look on Iruka’s face. “Oh. You didn’t know. Now you do. Well, fuck me.” 

“How about you buy me dinner first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter! But it's not the end. Not even of this fic, maybe?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated my dudes! <3


End file.
